


oh simple thing, where have you gone

by remuslupin



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: But it's good I swear, First Kiss, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vomiting, that's a weird combination of tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8770177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupin/pseuds/remuslupin
Summary: "a white gardenia represents purity and refinement, but if the flower has a yellow tinge near its base, it means secret love.” or, the one in which takumi is fully aware of how ironic it would be to survive an entire war between kingdoms and then ultimately be felled by a few gardenias.





	

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS REALLY GAY and was inspired by a mm fic about the fictional "hanahaki disease." since i apparently love both flower vomiting and leokumi, this happened. enjoy!
> 
> title quote taken from "somewhere only we know," by keane.
> 
> EDIT: there's now art for this fic!!! please check out tomatoleries' piece, it's super beautiful!! https://twitter.com/2M82_/status/808097201863823360.

 in retrospect, you should have seen it coming.

“it’s just a _stupid_ crush,”  is what you had taken to muttering whenever leo would shoot you a smile as he passed by-- that idiotic half-smile that you had almost fooled yourself into thinking was reserved just for you.

on the occasions that you’d happen upon the sight of leo laughing at one of niles’ crude jokes, or blushing at the newest compliment that corrin greeted him with, you would simply grit your teeth and carry on with a renewed determination (whether the determination was to prove yourself right or to just forget about the sight you had just seen, you’re still unsure), assuring yourself of the fact that it was just a naive longing. at the very least, you knew that it was something that would eventually pass.

or rather, you had hoped so.

\---

he makes you feel dizzy.

at least, that’s the best description you can think of. the aftermath of conversations between the two of you leaves you feeling breathless more often than not, as if you’ve been running for hours (and in a way, you have-- you’ve been running from him, from your feelings; but in the end, you only ever circle back to him).

some things, after all, become yours once you’ve loved them. they either become a part of who you are or simply destroy you. it doesn’t take long before you begin to wonder if those two possibilities are really just one and the same.

\--

you’re in a strategy meeting when it happens.

you think nothing of your symptoms at first. a tight throat and the odd cough could just be the beginnings of a common cold for all you know, and you simply hide your mouth behind your hand to mask the sound.

the problem starts when you pull your hand away and find a flower petal stuck to it.

brows knitting together in confusion, you insistently shake the white and yellow petal from your palm, and watch in an almost trance-like state as it slowly floats to the ground. after it stops moving, you continue to stare at it for a moment or so before clearing your throat and turning your attention back to hinoka, who has temporarily taken over ryoma’s job of speaking to the assembled group since your older brother and xander are quietly bickering where they sit.

you make a valiant attempt to involve yourself in the discussion once more, but as soon as you raise your hand to offer a suggestion about battle formations, something catches in your throat and your breath seizes.

your hand flies up to your mouth once more, and you can actually _feel_ more petals rise to your lips from the back of your throat as a harsh cough wracks your body. you abruptly stand, and the loud skid of your chair against the wooden floor draws the attention of everyone in the room-- even both of the crown princes.

“takumi, are you alright?” ryoma asks, frowning in concern as he rises from his seat and reaches a hand out towards your back, but you twist your body to avoid his touch and stumble blindly out of the room in the manner of a startled deer.

an entire handful of petals have been caught between your lips and your palm by the time you finally make it back to your quarters, and they finally cascade from the cracks between your fingers as you fall to your knees and retch uselessly. with every heaving breath you wonder if-- you _hope_ , you desperately hope-- it’s over, but with every passing moment comes several more petals.

it’s difficult to breathe. the petals are in your windpipe and clogging your airspace and your chest heaves uselessly as you cough and choke on the thing that is supposed to be beautiful, that is supposed to bring happiness to the world but only brings you immense _fear_ as you gaze down at the floor with a vision blurred by tears.

it continues for a long time, and you expel petal after petal until you’re left cradling a single gardenia in your hand and wondering who the hell you managed to piss off enough to warrant them putting this kind of curse on you.

\--

though it takes much persuasion, you finally find nyx’s grimoire in your grasp after a long period of negotiation (involving the promise of complete access to the romance novels in the hoshidan royal library) with the dark mage.

you’ve been searching the leather-bound book for what feels like hours now, and each turn of the worn pages adds another leaden weight to your heart as you begin to fear that whatever is happening to you may be an incurable anomaly.

it would be rather ironic, to survive an entire war between kingdoms and then ultimately be felled by a few gardenias.

surprisingly enough, you do not find your symptoms listed under any spell or curse, but in the portion of the book which nyx has dedicated to recording diseases and afflictions that she has come across over the years. calloused fingertips slowly trace the rough sketch that depicts flowers falling across the page, and your gaze strays to the growing pile of petals by your bed, coloured white and tinged yellow near the centre.  

 _花吐き病: hanahaki byou._ _from flushed skin they shall grow, seeds and roots and stems feasting on flesh. and they will blossom into beautiful prismatic petals, a sign of death_.

the poetry means nothing to you, but nyx’s notes that follow do. _a rare hoshidan affliction, brought on by one-sided love. though there have not been enough known or recorded cases to prove this, it seems hereditary to the royal family._ you can’t bring yourself to read any further. the pages collide once more with a thump, and your heart sinks deep into your gut.

love. of course.

\--

when you finally muster up the courage to prise the book open once more, you learn that there isn’t much you can do about it. you’re going to be coughing up flowers-- or just the petals, if you’re lucky-- until they kill you. there are only two cures; removal or reciprocation-- but with removal comes the extraction of your feelings, too. personally, you’re a little afraid of the possible outcomes that come with removal, especially when considering the blatant lack of casualty (or success) rates. then again, however, the latter seems just as terrifying to you.

while you had been brought up to constantly acknowledge the fact that death is inevitable (especially when taking your status into account), you’ve always been rather fearful of the unknown.

\--

days pass, and you tell no one.

for someone who’s just found out that they have flowers in their lungs, though, you’re faring considerably well.

\--

the first time that you and leo cross paths after your self-diagnosis, it’s on the battlefield.

what with your recent reclusive habits, ryoma hadn’t even been completely sure that you should be allowed to accompany the convoy out on the latest mission, but you had determinedly confined the flowers to your windpipe long enough to insist that yes, you were well enough to go and that _no,_ you weren’t a child anymore.

you keep to yourself during the convoy’s expedition to the bottomless canyon. mostly, you linger at the back of the group, coughing into your hand and letting flower petals fall from your fingertips. they leave a trail behind you, but you don’t bother looking down at them.

hours stream by, but it only seems like mere moments before you find yourself on the battlefield, fujin yumi gripped tightly in your hands as you shoot arrows at anyone who dares to try and get close to your allies. the flowers don’t bother you during these instances-- perhaps they know that you need to concentrate, or perhaps they simply want to ensure that they are the thing that finally kills you.

ultimately, it’s a small scream that distracts you, and a quick turn of your head reveals that the voice belongs to elise. arthur has been knocked to the side by a faceless, and two more have cornered effie, leaving the youngest nohrian princess defenceless. a cry sounds from nearby, and you barely have time to react before leo is breaking rank and beginning to charge towards his sister.

with brynhildr in hand, he swiftly takes care of the creature that had been lumbering towards elise, but what he fails to see is the second abomination coming up behind him. “leo--!” you cry, summoning an arrow and grasping the nocking point of your yumi tightly before drawing the string back and watching the weapon hit its intended mark.

the monster turns, attention diverted from leo in favour of focusing on you. you don’t have time to attack once more before it’s swinging a huge fist and slicing deep gashes into your shoulder with the use of the shackles on its wrists, but you soon recover and leap backwards before firing a second fatal shot into its stomach. it falls to the ground with a final groan, but not before you allow fujin yumi to slip uselessly from your fingertips so that you may raise your hand to clutch your shoulder tightly.

the faceless seems to have been the last enemy, as it doesn't take long for elise to run towards you and ready a healing stave. “wow, are you okay? you _saved_ leo back there!” she’s babbling, and you're unsure of whether it's because she's trying to distract you from the pain or if it's simply because she is quite possibly the most extroverted person you've ever met-- but you find yourself feeling grateful either way.

“takumi!” the beating hooves of leo’s steed accompanies his shout, and it's clear that he's finding it difficult to put together even one appropriate comment as he draws his horse to a halt and dismounts, before watching on glumly while elise sits you down atop a tree stump.

“takumi, i…”

you shake your head, unwilling to hear his apologies. it was hardly his fault, after all-- these things happened all the time. you can't blame him for wanting to save his sister any more than you can blame yourself for wanting to save _him_. “pay more attention to your surroundings next time, nohrian.”

“i would have been able to if some hoshidan hadn’t been shouting my name loudly enough for the entire kingdom to hear.”

you scowl, but don’t respond. while you're distracted, elise takes the opportunity to heal your wound with a wave of her staff. the gashes close as if the damaged skin has been sutured back together by an invisible needle, and you roll your arm with a relieved sigh-- the pain is all but gone already.

you thank elise, and she takes that as her cue to leave. you watch on aimlessly as she turns back towards her horse before leo’s voice pulls you back to him.

“hey…” you glance to the side, and the air is almost knocked out of your lungs as your eyes meet his (or maybe the flowers have just taken it all). “thank you. you saved my life.”

you say that it's nothing. at least, you intend to say that-- but that's not what happens. instead, you start coughing.

you're too slow to raise a hand and catch the flowers as they fall from your lips, so you wind your arms around your middle instead and look down at the ground, where several petals have fallen by your feet. your peripheral vision tells you that leo has begun to reach out towards you, but you jerk away and he pulls his hand back as if he's been stung.

“takumi...” you're not feeling nearly pitiful enough to have this conversation with him.

“it’s nothing.”

he picks up a petal, turning it in his fingers in deliberation. the sight of it disgusts you, makes you feel _ashamed,_ and you almost want to scream that _this is your fault, you did this to me--_ but you can't blame him. you blame yourself. when he speaks next, his words are slow and careful, as if he's trying to calm an injured animal. “that doesn’t seem like--”

“i just said that it’s _nothing._ don’t worry about it,” you snap, snatching fujin yumi from the ground and stalking away.

you don't have the opportunity to take more than two steps before another cough wracks through your chest and causes you to double over as several dried petals fall to the ground.

the flowers are dying. does that mean you are, too?

\--

sakura is the first person who comes close to finding out.

she catches you retching flower petals into a bush behind the mess hall during one particularly cool afternoon, and when she begins to reach for a staff that she keeps on hand, you raise a trembling hand to halt her in her actions. “sakura. no.”

her eyes are wide and confused as she takes a small step towards you. “b-but, brother--”

“i’m okay, i promise. it's just food poisoning.”

once you've wiped a few stray petals from your lips and have drawn on enough strength to finally straighten up, you pull her into a tight hug and quietly ask her not to tell your other siblings.

the air is palpable with her hesitance, but she complies.  

\--

leo doesn't ask about the gardenias again.

when you talk to him, it's as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you.

on one summer evening the two royal families gather for the hoshidan festival of bonds, and although leo initially looks rather unimpressed as you explain one tradition in particular to him with a certain gleam in your eyes and a few excited gestures of your hands (you don’t feel ill, not when you’re with the sun that nourishes the flowers inside you), he finally agrees to send a wish up with one of the lanterns.

you had been planning to send yours up in the company of your family, but despite this, you soon find yourself wandering away from the castle, lantern still in hand. it’s customary to write a wish on the inside of your lantern before sending it away, but despite hours of thinking, you can’t think of anything you want.

you can remember every wish that you’ve ever scrawled on one of these lanterns-- when you were three, four, and five, you wished for a pegasus of your own (hinoka was never too happy when she caught you feeding mass amounts of sugar cubes and apples to her own steed). when you were eight, you wanted your lost sibling to come home. last year, you desired nothing more than to prove yourself to your family and kingdom.

it’s funny how none of your wishes ever really came true.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that you completely miss the telltale snapping of twigs that would usually alert you to the fact that someone is approaching you, and you only notice leo when he finally enters your line of vision. though his sudden appearance is admittedly startling, you force yourself to stay perfectly still, in the true fashion of an archer.

“leo.”

“evening.” he briefly inclines his head towards you before stepping forward and taking a seat a few inches away from you on the log. though you use your foot to surreptitiously kick away the withered petals that you had previously left sprawled amongst the grass, the flowers that are still in your lungs curl towards his sunlight, and you can feel them yearn for you to edge closer and erase the distance, to find out whether his ungloved hands are as soft and warm as they look, but you refrain. instead, you start to panic, start to wonder what you could possibly say to him-- but the nohrian prince beats you to the punch.

“i’d have thought that you would be spending this time with your family.”

you take a deep breath. having gone so long without coughing almost feels odd at this stage. “i could say the same for you. wouldn’t you rather be with corrin than me?” you glance towards him, but leo is looking out at the lake, fingertips aimlessly fiddling with the rim of his lantern.

“isn’t it important for us to help corrin by at least trying to get along?”

a beat passes before a noncommittal hum reverberates through your lips.

leo sighs. it’s likely that this isn’t the answer he was looking for, but this doesn’t exactly surprise you. the two of you had never particularly gotten along, anyway.

“so,” you start hesitantly, glancing to the side to gauge his reaction, “did you write a wish on your lantern?”

“yes.”

“well…? what is it?”

“doesn’t legend usually say that if i tell you my wish, it won’t come true?”

“what are we, three?”

he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of an answer. maybe he just doesn’t want to argue anymore, and his next reply clues you in as to why.

“peace, mostly,” he shrugs. “happiness. isn’t that what we all want? an end to this war?”

you nod. “i guess.”

there’s a momentary lull in conversation before leo speaks up again. “well, what have _you_ wished for?”

you raise and drop a shoulder in a halfhearted mimicry of leo’s previous shrug, and lift your lantern to show him that nothing has been written on it as of yet. “i haven’t thought of anything.”

he snorts, and you can see the beginnings of an eye roll from the prince before you look away. it’s almost as if the flowers have left your lungs and are instead curling tightly around your heart, as a reminder of what you have lost-- or rather, what you never had. “well, that’s hardly fair. tell me something else then, prince takumi.”

“like what?” as you raise an eyebrow at the sudden gesture of formality and force yourself to look back at leo, he tilts his head to the side in consideration. you can see the visible hesitation running through the prince’s mind before he finally answers.

“tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”

gods, where would you even _start_?

“leo…” you sigh, staring down at your hands. a faint glow reflected on the water’s surface pulls you from your thoughts, however, and you look up to see the first of the lanterns glittering above the horizon. now that queen mikoto is dead, you assume that the lantern belongs to ryoma.

“yes…?”

“i…”

“yes?” he repeats. a prickling sensation that subsequently dances across the back of your neck suggests that he's staring at you, and it prompts you to swallow heavily.

when you finally look back at leo, you raise your lantern. “...i think it’s time we lit these.”

though leo frowns, he says nothing further, and allows you to show him how to properly prepare his lantern. your fingers brush against his as you lift the object together (they _are_ warm, warm and gentle and everything that the flowers yearn for), and while your own lantern lies discarded at your feet, leo’s spirals upwards and joins all the other paper wishes amongst the stars in the sky.

his desire is scrawled neatly inside of his lantern, and yours is empty.

you give your wish to leo on that night.

\--

though having managed to valiantly suppress all signs of worry during the first few weeks, oboro and hinata finally corner you during what is– or rather, what _was_ – the time you had allocated towards training with the pair until very recently.

the flowers are being expelled from your system at a near-constant rate at times, and you have hardly ventured outside of your room for the past 72 hours in fear of exposing your secret in public. as of now, however, you come to wish that you hadn't bothered to make the journey to the hot springs in an attempt to clear your mind, for you now find yourself face to face with your rather sullen-looking retainers.

“lord takumi,” oboro whines, looking almost as distressed as she sounds, “we haven't seen you for _days_ and– goodness, your hair looks awful!”

she raises a hand to touch your dishevelled mane (at this point, it could arguably put ryoma to shame) but hastily retracts it as if she's been burned when you scowl at her. “i haven't been feeling well.”

“you could have at least told us that you'd be missing all of our training sessions! we waited for hours!” hinata interjects, and oboro turns to shoot him a particularly withering gaze.

“you mean _i_ waited for hours. you waited for fifteen minutes and then left to get a sandwich.”

“i was there in spirit!”

“whatever! anyway, lord leo has been looking for you–”

“wait, what?” that certainly takes you by surprise (though you still have the sense to knock oboro’s hand away when she reaches for you again). “leave my hair alone.”

“he's been looking for you,” she repeats slowly, as if she's unsure if you actually understand her. “he sent that seedy retainer of his to ask me where you were– oh, what's his name? kyle… no… ooh, nick…?”

“niles, oboro. his name is niles.”

“well, you can't expect me to remember the name of every nohrian in camp.”

you stare impatiently at your retainers, waiting for them to stop squabbling and start looking at you like children who have just been reprimanded before finally speaking next. “did he tell you what leo wanted?”

“truthfully, i… i didn’t stick around long enough to find out, milord.” a beat of silence passes, before she momentarily sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and furrows her brows hesitantly. “did you want me to ask--”

“no. no, i’ll, ah… i’ll find him myself. thank you.”

though she seems surprised at your sudden change in attitude, oboro nods, and shows that she's understood your unspoken hint by taking hold of hinata’s arm and stepping back. “of course, milord. let us know if you need anything else.”

“see ya tomorrow! maybe? please?” is what hinata manages to yell out before oboro drags him away, but the majority of your attention has already been captured by the newfound knowledge that leo has been searching for you.

once, you had all but prayed for this to happen. now, however-- with your current condition in mind-- you can only hope that he gives up on trying to find you soon.

\--

“gods, do you _ever_ listen to people?”

you’re arguing with each other. again.

you hadn’t planned on this outcome when you had initially approached leo-- rather, you had hoped for a short and sweet conversation that didn’t dare venture near any particularly tabooed topics. that hope, of course, hadn’t lasted very long. you’d even had an audience for a short while-- laslow and charlotte had made equally poor attempts to pretend that they hadn’t been watching your spat for a few minutes before finally being scared off by one particularly harsh glare from you.

“do _you_?” is the half hearted retort that you choose to shoot back at leo, “i’ve told you a million times that i don’t want to talk about it, so _shut up_ , nohrian scum!”

“oh, that’s very mature, takumi! reverting back to old prejudices like the ignorant hoshidan you are, huh?"

“how could i not when you’ve proven to me that you fit into every single stereotype about your country? you’re arrogant, patronising, and entitled.”

“oh, don’t act like you know me! you _don’t_! camilla, elise, and i are all children of garon's mistresses. _different_ mistresses, i might add. garon enjoyed pitting them against each other, too. our mothers were the lowest of the low, trying to claw their way to a better status, and mine never saw me as anything but a tool that she could use to get herself there. if anyone’s entitled here, it’s _you_.”

the resounding silence that follows is too much to bear, and it is only eventually interrupted by the rustle of your clothes as you cross your arms and tilt your head so that you can glance up at him.

“if you don’t have anything useful to say, we’re done here.”

trusting someone from nohr was only ever going to lead to heartbreak.

a sigh soon passes through the lips of the blonde, and he crosses his arms before speaking once more. “...look, takumi, i just want to speak to you about the flowers--”

but leo doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before being interrupted by the all-too familiar cough that sounds from your chest. you expect it to be over quickly and are quick to place a hand over your mouth in preparation to catch the few stray flowers that may fall from your lips (the symptoms don’t usually flare up when you’re around the object of your affections, after all), but that is far from the case today.

it isn’t long before you’re dropping uselessly to your knees and clutching your chest as your throat clogs and all you can think about is the fact that _you don’t want to die_ but suddenly entire flowers are rising into your mouth as easily as bile and spilling out onto the floor, shrivelled and dead, and then there’s a hand shaking your shoulder that feels warm and gentle and _it’s_ him _, gods, it’s him, don’t let him see me die like this_ \--

the coughing stops.

the flowers on the floor are dead.

they’re _dead_ , and you have stopped coughing, but not breathing.

it takes a moment for the loud beating of your heart to stop drowning out the other sounds in the world around you. when it does, you reach for one of the dead gardenias and clutch onto it as if it's your only lifeline.

it's dead, so why are you not?

“hanahaki,” leo whispers, and you immediately flinch at the mere mention of the disease. slowly, however, you gather the courage to raise your head and look at him.

“how did you--”

“takumi. contrary to popular belief, i don't spend every day in the library solely to avoid interacting with people. i figured it out at the bottomless canyon, but i had no idea that…”

“that what?”

“that you loved _me_.”

“would that have made a difference?”

“maybe. maybe not. all i know is that… well, i think you should be cured now.”

“how do you know that?”

“because i love you, too.”

you don't ask when, or how, or why; nor do you get the opportunity to. the only thing you manage to register in your mind is that leo is winding an arm around your waist so that he may pull you forward, tilting your chin up with a delicate hand, and slowly leaning in towards you. when his lips are only inches away from yours, he stops, giving you the space and time to react or pull away. as you reach up and place your hands on his chest (one splayed directly over his heart and the other curled in a tight fist, still clutching the flower), however, you find that the only logical reaction now is to close the distance.

though the kiss isn't exactly wonderful (it's your first, and you have a feeling that the same goes for leo), your heart _melts_ at the contact and you finally feel as if you can breathe again, as if the two of you could take on the entire nation if given the chance.

when you finally pull away, it's only because you feel something dry against leo’s lips, and you pull away a few inches before finally cracking a small smile at the sight of the stray gardenia petal that is stuck to his mouth.

“what?” leo asks, raising an eyebrow as the corners of his lips quirk upwards. it's that _stupid_ half-smile, and butterflies erupt in your stomach before you are finally reminded of the usefulness of the english language.

“well, you've got…” you gesture vaguely to his mouth, and after he furrows his brows in confusion, a quiet chuckle slips through your lips before you reach up and wipe the petal away.

“there.” a momentary pause. “sorry.”

you can feel leo’s chest rumble as he laughs, and the small smile that he consequently presents you with hints at the fact that he understands the full extent of what you’re apologising for (not just for the flower-- no, you’d wanted to apologise for your absolutely childish behaviour, and for avoiding him-- for all of the stupid things you’d said and done to him since you’d discovered the presence of the disease in your system, really). all is silent for a moment, before you finally huff and aim a glare down at the dried petals at your feet.

“...i _never_ want to see another one of those stupid flowers again.”

“i suppose it would be in poor taste to give them to you for any special occasions, then?”

you roll your eyes at the prince, but before you can even think about opening your mouth to retort, his lips are pushing against yours again.

you close your eyes, finally allowing the last wilted flower to slip from your grasp and fall to the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! reviews/kudos are always appreciated!!!
> 
> if you're interested, my twitter is kerrouac! please feel free to come & scream at me about fire emblem.


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